Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This
by Jeanny
Summary: After he's rescued, Angel finds he still has feelings for his rescuer: Buffy (A bit of post-season summer B/A fluff)


Title: Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

Author: Jeanny

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Through Grave & Tomorrow - absolutely no legit S7 spoilers to speak of here, more's the pity.

Distribution: I don't mind, just credit me and let me know where it's going.

Feedback: Please. jeannygrrl@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel: the Series and all the characters that appear on the shows are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Fox, Mutant Enemy, Inc., UPN, the WB and any one else with a legal binding claim to the shows and/or characters. No copyright infringement is intended. 

Summary: After he's saved, Angel deals with newly resurfaced feelings.

Dedication: For Buffychick, because she deserves it. Actually, she deserves much, much better, but I hope she's happy with this. :)

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Angel pulled the gray turtleneck over his head, grateful for its woolly dry warmth. Even though as a vampire, he was normally impervious to temperature changes, his time spent in his watery prison had left him feeling psychologically chilled. 

The only bright spot had been the near constant presence of his rescuer, although that had brought its own trials. Angel felt tinges of feelings he'd thought he had finally moved past, and privately worried that he was mistaking his feelings of gratitude for something more. And then worried even more that he was not confused at all.

"Angel? Are you sure you're really okay?" She hesitated in the doorway, fidgeting a bit, and he grinned widely, an expression even he hadn't even known he could make. After a flash of astonishment she mock scowled at him. "What?"

"I'd forgotten that you do that," he confessed.

"Do what?" she asked, as she shifted feet again. He almost started to laugh, it was so...

So Buffy. His heart swelled with joy.

"God, I've missed you. I've missed you so much...and I've been worried about you, after I saw you and you were so...so not you. But now I look at you and...and you're Buffy. The Buffy I...you're my girl..." She ran across the room and melted into his arms.

"Always...I love you...Angel...Angel...Angel?" He snapped out of his daydream with a start. She frowned at him, still in the doorway. 

"Sorry, thinking...what?" He repeated dazedly.

"You said you'd forgotten I do...what? Stand in doorways? Worry about you? Love you?"

"What did you say?" Angel asked, stunned. He started walking towards her, his eyes locked on hers. Buffy struggled to find the right words.

"Because I kind of forgot that too, or I pushed it away because I couldn't...we couldn't...and then Fred called and all I could think was that we'd wasted all our chances, and if I couldn't find you I'd..."

He pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair as he feathered her forehead with gentle, slow, deliberate kisses. She shivered when he finally spoke.

"You found me. You saved me. And you...you still love me?" The last was spoken wonderingly, as if he scarcely dared hope.

"I do...I never...oh, Angel..."

His lips crushed hers and she moaned as he murmured against them.

"Buffy...are you alright?"

Her head snapped up and she flushed with embarrassment. Angel had taken a few steps closer, but her little fantasy had been nothing but just that. A fantasy. Something she thought she'd stopped doing long ago. She took a shuddering breath, shivering.

"I'm fine...I'm not the one who was doing an impression of a coral reef less than two days ago..."

"You're cold," Angel said abruptly, turning away to grab a blanket off the bed. "Come here." Buffy opened her mouth to protest, and he smiled ruefully. "I don't bite."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what all the vampires say," she teased with feigned lightness, but came to him and allowed him to drape the gray flannel across her shoulders.

"Better?" he asked, still holding the makeshift shawl by its ends, reluctant to let go. She was close enough for him to smell her uniquely Buffy scent, peaches and aloe, now with a whiff of sea salt that was lingering somehow even after two days. She looked up at him through her lashes almost shyly.

"Mmm-hmm." They simply stared at each other, each lost momentarily until Buffy sighed, cocking her head. "Are we ever gonna talk about it, Angel?"

"About?" Angel asked, her eyes tracing the curve of her impossibly crimson lips until her tongue flicked out to moisten them. He looked away, swallowing hard.

"About how you ended up locked in a coffin waiting for the ghost of Jacques Cousteau. You know, if Xander was here he'd be making Jaws jokes."

"One more reason to count my blessings," Angel said dryly. "Kind of surprised you didn't bring the Scooby gang along...what did I just say?" Angel frowned at Buffy's pained expression. "You didn't...no one was..."

"No...and we're talking about you right now, remember?"

"I thought we were talking about Xander."

"You thought wrong..." Buffy smirked, then grew concerned at his expression "What is it, Angel?"

"How did you find me? I never...I assumed Willow. But now..."

The unhappy look flashed in her eyes again when he said Willow's name. She almost winced, but when she spoke her voice was neutral.

"Not Willow. Giles got me some help from overseas."

"The Watchers Council?" Angel asked incredulously. Buffy's eyes dropped again, her expression evasive.

"Not exactly..." she demurred, meeting his gaze and leaning towards him. When she spoke again her voice was a shade huskier. "Does it really matter how? I saved you. That's the important thing." Slowly, their faces began to close the scant distance between them, hers flushed with desire, his eyes like liquid fire.

"Yeah, the important..." Angel agreed, his lips stopping less than an inch from hers. He groaned. "I've got to stop doing this."

"Doing what?" Buffy breathed. Angel smiled at her, content to indulge himself for the moment. From the loving look he saw in her eyes, clearly he was dreaming again.

"Fantasizing about kissing you," he answered, and Buffy's breath caught. Her solemn expression was belied by her dancing eyes.

"Kissing me how?" she asked innocently. Angel cupped her chin gently with his hand.

"Like this."

This time Angel felt the fantasy was somehow more, more wonderful, more real, more everything than it had been before. It wasn't until Buffy broke for air that it even occurred to him why that might be...

"You too, huh?" Buffy asked with a grin. Angel blinked at her, suddenly scared.

"What?" he managed.

"With the daydreams. About you and me, together. Only in mine, the kissing is more like this." She grabbed his head with both hands as her mouth sought his eagerly. Angel's fingers combed through waves of soft blonde before trailing down her back, exploring something both indescribably familiar and completely new. Another long, enjoyable stretch of time later, Angel released her reluctantly, feeling one of them had to say it.

"Buffy, we can't...this can't be real," he started, but her fingers on his lips stopped him. She shook her head slowly.

"I know. Good thing we're just dreaming, right?" she answered. Angel's mouth curled up as he understood.

"Right, because if this was real it would be really complicated."

"We'll just have to live in the fantasy then," Buffy declared airily. She gave a small happy shriek as he pulled her to him again.

"Sounds good to me," Angel murmured as he moved in for another dreamy kiss.

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The End :) Feedback's very welcome!


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